


Cold Sky Shone

by sunspot (unavoidedcrisis)



Category: Stardew Valley (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Poetry, Shotgunning, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:53:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27292249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unavoidedcrisis/pseuds/sunspot
Summary: Shane goes for a walk and ends up on the beach one night. Elliott is there with clove cigarettes and company.
Relationships: Elliott/Shane (Stardew Valley)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 37
Collections: Trick or Treat Exchange 2020





	Cold Sky Shone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afterism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afterism/gifts).



> With thanks to Percy Bysshe Shelley & the poem _The cold earth slept below._

Shane takes a walk to clear his head. He's found lately he needs lots of walks to clear his head, but it's better than falling back into old habits.

He's down by the water, kicking sand and rocks and trying not to think about any one thing too much. It's a bit cold for September, especially with the salty breeze off the ocean, and Shane forgot to wear anything warmer than his jean jacket over a tee. But he doesn't want to go home right yet.

There's plenty of places to wander around in the woods that wouldn't have the sharp wind that's coming up. He decides to wander there instead when a half-familiar voice starts to speak.

" _Thine eyes glow'd in the glare of the moon's dying light._ "

"Hello?" Shane asks.

Elliott waves from the shadowed side of his cabin by the water and starts towards where Shane's standing. "Don't see you down here much," he remarks.

"I'm not," Shane agrees.

"Nice night for it though." Elliott pulls out a square, silver case and pops it open to reveal a neat row of dark cigarettes. He holds it out, nodding his head when Shane meets his eyes. Shane helps himself, though he's never been a big smoker. It seems like a polite thing to do in the moment.

Elliott lights his own and passes the ornate lighter over. Shane's first drag is spicy and rich, way more than he's expecting. He coughs and passes the lighter back, their fingers brushing. "Are these -?"

"Clove. Sorry, I should have said."

Shane just nods. "No, it's fine." And then belatedly, "thanks."

It's a different kind of smoke than he's had before, making his head spin a little, but not in a bad way. Elliott grins at him; it's as heady as the smoke. Shane smiles back.

The moon's high overhead and it makes the water shine silver. It's a nice night, if chilly, and though he's a bit odd, Elliott's always been nice enough to him. Here in the moonlight, his pale skin almost glows. Shane thinks he's handsome, and then thinks maybe that's not the most appropriate thought.

"You really want to feel it?" Elliott asks. Shane's not sure, but he doesn't have a good reason to say no. He's never had a good reason to say no to 'feeling' differently.

Elliott takes him by the forearm, grip surprisingly strong, and brings him closer. With his free hand, he brings his cigarette back to his curving lips and takes a long drag. He holds it in and motions for Shane to get closer. Shane obliges and is rewarded with Elliott touching his chin, tipping his face up. Shane gets the picture a fraction of second too late, opening his mouth to take the breath that Elliott exhales, their lips all but brushing as Elliott reels Shane in until their chests bump.

The cold dissipates between them, replaced with heat, heat, heat. Up this close, Elliott isn't handsome, he's completely gorgeous. Skin so pale it's like it's carved from marble, with his hair spilling down over his shoulders, and his hand on Shane's forearm is steady and intense.

Elliott pulls back and dissolves into laughter as soon as they're done and Shane can't stop his own chuckle either. It was silly, of course, because of course it's just a little party trick and nothing else, but for a second,when they were close, Shane thought he'd seen something more in Elliott's eyes.

"And _the breath of night like death did flow,_ " Elliott intones. Shane must look quizzical. "A poem I like, nothing more."

Shane nods, not one for poetry and slightly afraid Elliott may recite more to him.

"I should get back," Shane says.

Elliott smiles softly at him, unreadable like Shane imagines most poets and artists are. "Say you'll come visit me again another night?"

Shane agrees a little too readily. "Sure, sure. It's uh, nice down here."

"It is. Goodnight, Shane. Thanks for spending some time with me."

The walk back to the farm is cold and made colder by the milky white light from the moon, but the memory of Elliott's touch keeps him warm.


End file.
